Follow the topics within this article

That’s the last time I let someone else order food for me. Chomping on a ravioli dish this week, I inquired of my dining companion what meat we were eating. “Squirrel,” he said. I laughed. “No, really,” I said. “What is this?” He repeated it: “Squirrel.”

Realising he was serious, I put down my fork. “Is there a famine on?” I asked. “Are we under siege?”

I admit there was nothing rational about my reaction. As far as I know, squirrels are perfectly clean. They eat nuts, like some gourmet pig breeds. But nor was the squirrel so delicious that I felt the need to keep eating it.

The next day, in the park, I saw a tourist luring a fluffy squirrel up her leg using a banana, posing while her smiling...